


Diamond of the First Water

by klavscaroline



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Regency, Caroline is the Duchess of Hastings, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Klaus is the third son of a viscount, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29864616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klavscaroline/pseuds/klavscaroline
Summary: Dearest Readers,The year is 1813 and London's Social Season is blossoming as wedding-minded debutantes and their Mamas scramble to find a suitable match before they are deemed a spinster. But when the Duchess of Hastings, Lady Caroline Forbes, returns to London, everyone is left wondering, who will be her lucky suitor?Regards,Lady Whistledown*Bridgerton AU*
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 62





	Diamond of the First Water

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! After talking about it for so long, I've finally done it. I absolutely love Bridgerton and Klaroline, so I thought why not combine the two together? 
> 
> This story is a little bit of a role reversal, where Caroline is the Duchess of Hastings, and Klaus is the third son of a viscount. As the show is a modern spin on Regency London, I've used a little creative license, and allowed women to inherit positions of power, despite still living in a largely patriarchal society in 1813.
> 
> This story is dedicated to the lovely Sabrina, without whom, this story would have probably been abandoned.

_Grosvenor Square, 1813_

_Dearest Readers,_

_The time has come for the beginning of a much anticipated social season here in the heart of London._

_May we only have to look upon the household of Baron Fell and his three young misses, foisted upon the marriage market like pitiful ducklings, in their bright yellow head feathers that clash horrendously with their golden locks._

_However, not all hope is lost as far better odds may be found in the household of Viscount Mikaelson, and notably his second youngest, Miss Rebekah, who is set to debut before the Queen this season._

_And it would not do to mention the Mikaelsons without bringing up the brothers, in particular our eyes are set on Niklaus, the only one of the three eldest not to have a lady on his arm._

_After Lord Finn’s marriage to his long-time love, Lady Sage three seasons ago, and the recent yet shocking engagement of Earl-to-be Elijah to the brazenly outspoken Countess Katerina, it appears that the spotlight is now solely focused on the handsome Niklaus, who has quite the reputation for himself._

_But that, my dear readers, is a story for another time. Until then._

_Regards,_

_Lady Whistledown_

“Is our dear sister still not ready?” Henrik groaned impatiently from the bottom of the long-winding staircase at the opulent Mikaelson Manor. The suit was increasingly uncomfortable for the young Sir as five of the six siblings dressed immaculately, ready for one of the grandest events of the year. 

“She’s been readying herself the entire night,” Sage said, walking down from her sister-in-law’s room, remembering her own debut night many seasons ago.

Kol rolled his eyes, “You mean, her entire life.” 

“Perhaps I should go upstairs and hasten her along,” Elijah offered, ever the responsible one. “It would not fare well to appear late at such events, not when the Queen would be present.”

“I shall go,” Kol pushed through.

“No, allow me,” Klaus said, straightening his tailcoat. “She likes me better,” he said with a cheeky smirk directed at his younger brother.

“And who said that?” 

“Oh, just about everyone.”

Kol looked around, “That is so not true,” he muttered, but no one returned his gaze. 

Henrik groaned, his layers upon layers of clothing were beginning to burn his skin. He stood forward, looked up and yelled, “REBEKAH! You must MAKE HASTE!” 

The occupants of the parlour stood deadly quiet as his young voice echoed upon the marble walls of the manor. 

He let go of the breath he was holding and turned around to face his older siblings, “Should you think she heard me?” He asked, with nothing but a smile on his still-chubby face. 

* * *

At last, Rebekah came down in her spectacularly decorated white flowing gown, and the Mikaelsons made their way to the Queen’s Palace in their carriages. 

Today is the most important day of the season. Everyone knows that first impressions are everything, and as the wedding-minded ladies and their mothers fluffed their feathery crowns one last time, the royal herald made his commencement speech. 

“Miss Tatia Gilbert, Miss Elena Gilbert and Miss Amara Gilbert, all presented by their mother, the Right Honourable Lady Miranda Gilbert.” The first girls were called into the room, where the Queen sat on her red and gold throne. The great hall was packed with London’s elite hoping to catch a glimpse of this season’s hopefuls.

Numerous debutantes were presented before the Queen and only a few were lucky enough to get so much as an approving nod. Most ladies came and went smoothly, as rehearsed thousands of times throughout their lives, all with the exception of Miss Meredith Fell, who fainted at the sight of the imposing Queen. And whether it was from fear or the tightness of her leather corset, it was up for debate.

“Miss Rebekah Mikaelson, presented by her mother, the Right Honourable Lady Esther Mikaelson.” She was now the last girl standing before the Queen, her mother by her side and her siblings in the crowd. Rebekah gave a perfect curtsy, and there was a glimmer of regard on Her Majesty’s face. A rare smile finally broke out and she received a roomful of applause, by far the most positive reaction out of all the ladies that night. Her mother smiled proudly, and the two went to find their place in the crowd. 

Just as the herald was about to announce the end of this year’s Debut, the double doors of the Grand Hall opened. 

All heads turned towards the door, and there was a collective gasp and hushed whispers. 

Fitted in the most pristine blue dress was the Duchess of Hastings herself. Disappearing from society for more than two years, she returned looking more confident and mature than ever, as she stood at the doorway unaccompanied. 

Whispers grew louder and louder until the Queen cleared her throat, in which all conversations ceased immediately.

“Her Grace, Lady Caroline Forbes, the Duchess of Hastings, presented by…,” The herald announced, as he regained his composure, but unsure on how to follow. “Presented by Her Grace, Lady Caroline Forbes, the Duchess of Hastings.”

Caroline flowed effortlessly down the hall, her head held high, ignoring the gossip going on around her. No mama in sight to present her, she exuded confidence of both the lady and the matron all on her own. 

All eyes were captivated by her essence until the Queen stood up from her throne. Caroline came to a halt and curtsied before her. The royal walked down the steps and gently lifted her finger to Caroline’s face as the young Duchess stood up. 

“My, my, Lady Caroline, have you grown.” The Queen commented, inspecting her face, “Flawless, my dear.”

Caroline gave a gentle smile, surely beyond delighted at the Queen’s high praise, whilst maintaining her ease and composure in front of the Ton. 

She gave her final curtsy, and Caroline too joined the rest of the crowd, taking her place in front of the platformed stage where the Queen returned. Unbeknownst to her, all eyes were still on her. 

* * *

The paperboy ran across the streets of London, delivering the much sought after publication to the habitants of London. Everyone and anyone, rich or poor, scrambled to get their hands on one, all intended on getting inside news on the happenings of last night’s Debut.

_Dearest Readers,_

_Apart from the embarrassing hysterics from Miss Meredith Fell, it appears that we had the most surprising twist in last night’s Debut. Over two hundred ladies were presented before the Queen, none acquiring much more than a nod or in Miss Rebekah Mikaelson’s sake, a rare smile, until one final Debutante surprised us with her presence._

_After disappearing from London’s high society for two seasons, the Duchess of Hastings returns, months after the announcement of her father’s death, since which she has inherited his title, lands and wealth. With her late mother’s untimely passing during the labour of her second still-born son many years ago, the Duchess arrived alone and presented herself, a never before seen feat._

_Nonetheless, it did not take away from her spark, as the Queen herself stood up to greet the perfectly beautiful Duchess, dressed in a kind of blue that did everything to highlight the shine of her cerulean eyes, and offered her the high praise of ‘Flawless’._

_It comes to no surprise that this year’s Ton will be dominated by the Duchess of Hastings herself, a true Diamond of the First Water. Not only is she armoured with impeccable beauty, but she too comes with a title and immense wealth for any future husband. We only wonder which lucky suitor will capture her heart._

_Regards,_

_Lady Whistledown_

“Anything?” Rebekah inquired coming up from behind Kol to snatch the papers from his hand. She quickly scanned the publication, before putting it down in a huff, “Barely a mention? This cannot be fair! The whole issue is about the Duchess of Hastings.”

“She was truly quite the spectacle,” Kol piped up, earning a slap on the shoulder from her sister. 

“Why must she return this season? Of all the times she could have returned to London, she chooses the night that I’m to be presented to the Queen for the first time!”

“To be fair, I don’t think she had you on her mind when she made that decision, dear sister.” Klaus drawled, unsure why Rebekah was fretting so much. Sure, the Duchess was beautiful and he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from her when she arrived unexpectedly, but she was just one girl. Once she had settled, there would be plenty of other suitors for all the other girls. 

“Ugh, Nik! You are supposed to be on my side!”

“And I am! But before you lose your head, I assure you that there are many more nights to make good impressions, and I suggest you make haste if we are to make the opening ball at the Bennett Hall tonight. Finn and Elijah are otherwise occupied, and I am to escort you.”

“Very well,” Rebekah conceded. 

* * *

“I’ve heard rumours that you’ve returned, but I couldn’t believe it until now.” Bonnie Bennett greeted her from the entrance of her manor. 

“Bonnie,” Caroline stepped off her carriage and towards her old friend with a kiss on the cheek, “It’s been far too long.”

“And my condolences, Your Grace, for your father,” Bonnie said empathetically. “I know you weren’t close, but he was your blood.”

“That’s very kind of you, but stop this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense. You’ve known me since we were barely out of the cradle, and my inheritance doesn’t change anything.”

“If you insist. I assume that you will be attending the Ball that my mother is hosting tonight,” Bonnie asked. “I would hate to imagine the lengths that she would go to if I were presented this season instead of the next.”

“You are much aware of the high regard I hold for you, my dear friend, but I must admit that I am rather dreading the prospect of being paraded around the ball for the hopes of marriage. But alas, my Uncle Damon insists, and I am sure that it will be merely a matter of time before he realises that marriage is not on the table for me, at least not now. But I can only take so much of his incessant nagging.”

“I can only hope that he respects your wishes. Goodness knows how difficult it is to be a woman in position.”

“One day that will be you, Bon, the future Duchess of Dorset.”

“I should hope that day does not come so soon.”

* * *

The Bennett Ball was arguably the second most important event of the season. Tonight, the young Debutantes will meet the eligible bachelors of the Ton and find out who will succeed in securing a match, and who will be given the awful title of a spinster.

More often than not, Mamas are the first to corner unsuspecting young men to introduce them to their daughters, whilst taking the opportunity to boast about their young one’s many talents in pianoforte, embroidery, gardening and everything imaginable.

“Isn’t that Victoria Donovan?” Caroline overheard barely concealed voices from a group of ladies to her left. 

“Why, it sure is,” another replied. “I wonder how she can dare to show her face after her scandal with that young Lord last year.” They sneered. “Light-skirt.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, she did not miss the hypocrisy of high society. Everyone acted as though they were better than others, when in reality they were all but a bunch of vultures waiting to see who was next to fall from grace. 

“Your Grace, you made it,” she turned around, a familiar face in the crowd pushed through, “I was most concerned when you refused my invitation to escort you this evening, but I’m happy to know that you’re here.”

“Uncle Damon,” she greeted politely, with a smile expected from a lady. “Happy to see you too.” She was lying through her teeth, but by now, it had become instinctual for her. A lady was never to be rude, a lady was never to show signs of displeasure or anger. A lady had to smile, to exude positivity, to be kind, generous and loving. And a Duchess was no exception, if anything, she had to set the example. 

Damon looked around, aware of the eyes that were now on them as Caroline had walked into the room, “They’re all staring, my dear niece. Remember, let them come to you.”

She suppressed another eye roll at the thought of him explaining to her what to do as a woman. As if she had not grown up and been raised for this very purpose. And yet, she smiled and nodded, “I shall remember that, thank you.”

“Come, let’s walk.” Without waiting for a response, Damon placed Caroline’s hand on his arm, as he led her around the ballroom. 

“I know it’s been two years since you’ve visited London, and it is your first time as a Debutante. There’s a lot that you may not know and that’s what I’m here for.” Damon started, “Look there, that’s Lord Lockwood, and I assure you that he is more than aware and thrilled at the prospect of obtaining your sizable dowry. His father gambled away their fortune and they are a thread away from losing their titles and lands.”

“I see.” Caroline mumbled. “And I don’t suppose you know of him either,” she nodded over to a dark haired gentleman who could only be described as leering at her. 

“That would be Mr. Worthington, twice divorced with a proclivity for much younger women.”

Caroline shook her head in disgust, “How about him?”

“That, over there, is Mr. Donovan. Although a fine gentleman himself, his family name is marred from his sister’s scandal last season. It is rumoured that she got a little too friendly with a newly married Lord, and had to be put in bedrest for about nine months, before emerging just in time for this year’s debut.”

Caroline nodded, registering the name that she heard the other ladies whisper about earlier in the evening. 

Feeling overwhelmed, she turned to Damon and said, “Excuse me, Uncle, I’m feeling rather parched.”

“I shall fetch you a glass of lemonade,” he offered. 

“No, you have done so much for me already. I shall return in a mere moment.” Damon nodded, as he caught sight of his brother through the entryway. 

She arrived at the drinks table and she had to admire the way the glasses were arranged and the details Lady Bennett had put into every piece of decoration. 

She was soothing her thirst with the sweet taste of lemonade when a voice disturbed her from behind. 

“Lady Caroline,” a man in his forties greeted.

She looked at him with a blank stare, as she failed to recognise him.

“Lord Saltzman,” he greeted, “Alaric Saltzman.”

“A pleasure, Lord Saltzman,” she greeted politely in return, wishing to be left alone with her lemonade. 

“I’m delighted to see that you have returned to London, Lady Caroline. You have always amused me, ever since I was a schoolboy and you were…”

“All but a babe?” She asked, unable to mask the disgust in her voice.

Lord Saltzman only chuckled, and sipped on his drink, unabashed by his brazen admission. 

She had never been so thankful for interruptions, as there appeared to be several men walking towards her now that she was unattended by her uncle, undoubtedly hoping to score a name on her dance card. 

“Lady Caroline,” one echoed the other. Voices upon voices layered on top of each other and as they closed in on her, and she made a run for it. 

It was in her haste that she forgot to look at where she was going, and she made it far enough before she hit something, or someone, with a thud.

“Oh, pardon me,” she apologised, stepping away from the person she had bumped into. 

“Forgive me,” the man said in return. She was able to take a good look at him, and couldn’t help but admire his handsome features. He appeared to do the same as he quickly uttered, “Your Grace, I apologise,” as soon as he recognised her.

She noticed the gaggle of suitors beginning to make their way towards her, and whilst she did not know this gentleman, he did not seem phased by her presence, and that was a welcoming thought. 

“It was my fault, I wasn’t looking. What is your name, Sir?”

“My name?” He repeated, not knowing why the Duchess was even speaking to him of all people. The third son of a viscount, he was far from the level of a duchess. 

“NIK!” A voice yelled out, Caroline noticed a familiar blonde girl strutting towards them, with her mama trailing behind her. The other blonde noticed the Duchess, who was still standing next to Klaus, unwilling to leave his presence just yet in hopes for some protection against potential suitors. 

“Oh, it’s you,” the other girl said, giving Caroline a look of disdain.

“Rebekah! Apologise immediately,” her mama scolded.

“My apologies, Your Grace, it is my pleasure to see you,” Rebekah said, her voice as innocent as an angel, but Caroline knew the game well enough to tell that she meant none of it. 

“This is my sister, Lady Rebekah Mikaelson,” Nik introduced, “And my mother, Viscountess Esther Mikaelson.”

“I must apologise on behalf of my daughter, Your Grace,” Esther said, earnestly, looking embarrassed for her daughter’s behaviour. “I must ask that you allow us to make it up to you. It would be our utmost pleasure to have you join us for supper on Sunday evening.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright.”

“Please, I insist.”

She looked over at Nik, who shrugged. 

“Of course, Lady Mikaelson, I shall be honoured.” Esther gave her a bright smile and quickly dismissed herself and Rebekah away before the latter could do more damage. 

“So, I gather you’re Nik then,” Caroline turned to the remaining Mikaelson.

“Niklaus Mikaelson, third son of Viscount Mikaelson,” he nodded, “Most people call me Klaus.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not most people,” Caroline mused, “So, how about a dance, Nik?”

“Are you asking me?” He replied, amused and bewildered that a lady was asking a gentleman to dance.

“Why not?”

“It’s rather unconventional, isn’t it?”

“And is that a problem?”

“Problem?” Klaus smiled, “On the contrary, I find it rather refreshing, your Grace.” She returned his smile and offered him her dance card, which he quickly scribbled his name. 

The two swept the dancefloor, weaving through the other well-dressed couples, many of whom turned their heads to stare at the Duchess and her partner. Lady Caroline was undoubtedly a popular topic of conversation amongst the members of the Ton. And as much as people loved to speculate whether she would rise up to her role as the Duchess of Hastings as smoothly as a male heir would, the larger part of gossip surrounded her potential courtship. And it appeared that the crowd may have gotten what they wanted. 

Dancing was a passion of hers but it wasn’t easy to find a partner to connect with, and so she mostly did it solo. But it was halfway through their waltz that she had finally allowed herself to enjoy high society for the first time, as her heart skipped a little faster than it did before.

Perhaps, it only takes the right person to change her views on love after all. 

* * *

_Dearest Readers,_

_I come to you with information that I am certain you are all waiting to hear: news of the incomparable Duchess and her night at the Bennett Ball. Well, my dear readers, it appears that we have ourselves a dashing winner._

_It has reached my ears that a certain Mister Mikaelson should be awarded the season’s grand prize, as he was spotted sweeping the Duchess of Hastings off her slippered feet down the majestic hall of the prized Manor._

_The two were seen dancing not once, but twice, seemingly enthralled by one another’s presence. The Duchess wore a magnificent white-lace gown, whilst Mister Mikaelson donned a dashing black suit-jacket that contrasted Her Grace beautifully._

_After the two had ended their dance, the Duchess was escorted home by her uncle, Lord Damon Salvatore, the younger brother of her late mother. It is of interesting note that the Duchess did not spare another dance for any other suitors, and left her dance card by the reception table, with only one name on it._

_Niklaus Mikaelson_

_Which brings us to the topic. As promised, there is much to divulge about the young Sir, and his rather rakish reputation._

_Unlike his quiet and reserved older brothers, it is perhaps that being the third son of a viscount has given Niklaus the freedom to explore his own path, and it is rumoured to be filled with many beautiful women, both of high ranks and low, as we do applaud a man who does not discriminate._

_It is no secret that the staffers at the Mikaelson manor have reported seeing streams of ladies in and out his bedchambers in the dawn of night, and some names will surprise you indeed._

_But perhaps the most scandalous of all is his alleged affair with Miss Hayley Labonair, his older brother, Mister Elijah’s then fiance. The engagement ended soon after the rumours erupted and one cannot deny that the timing is much too convenient for it all to be a coincidence._

_We only hope that the young Mister Mikaelson’s intentions with the Duchess are pure as diamonds, as there certainly hasn’t been such a precious jewel in the Ton in quite some time._

_I cannot speak for you, my loyal readers, but I do love a fairytale._

_Regards,_

_Lady Whistledown_

**Author's Note:**

> Lady Whistledown spilling all the tea, just as Klaroline were starting to bond! And I can't imagine Caroline being too pleased to read this! 
> 
> Please leave a kudos/comment/bookmark if you enjoyed it as that would mean so much to me! I hope you guys found it as entertaining as it was for me to write it. I've tried not to copy the story too much, and bring my own subplots into the story, so let me know if it's working!


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